


Like a moth to a flame

by squidmemesinc



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Absolutely No Angst, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist!Noya, Blow Jobs, Did I Mention Fluff, Fluff, M/M, not a coffee shop au but coffee is involved briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidmemesinc/pseuds/squidmemesinc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just modeling, right? What can it hurt, even if the artist is very small and very cute and Asahi is...in very deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a moth to a flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Solovei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solovei/gifts).



> HELLO RECIPIENT.... 
> 
> I have to say this was a ride to write. I didn't actually offer AsaNoya but I am not opposed, and when I looked at your AO3/bookmarks/requests I knew I _had_ to do your OTP. And then I struggled because I have apparently never written Nishinoya before and Asahi has only appeared in like...3k's worth words of my fics. But I think this turned out okay. Actually I kind of really like this. I don't know how it got to be over 7000 words though, uh. 
> 
> Anyway I tried to hit as many of the things you mentioned in your prompt as possible so I hope it's on-mark!!! Ahhhhhh!!!

"You!"

It's not even 8:30 in the morning and Asahi is being accosted.

"I-I'm sorry?" he stutters at the small, cute man across the counter from him, who is pointing an accusing finger towards him with an inconsistent expression of glee on his face. Does he know this guy from high school? Is he a regular that Asahi has somehow failed to recognize? Did they meet in some seedy bar? Has Asahi ever been to a seedy bar? Is this kid old enough to get into bars? Why is Asahi suddenly fixated on bars?

"What's your name?" the guy demands, still pointing. Asahi tries to subtly shift out of range of The Finger, but it seems to follow him.

"A-Azumane Asahi?"

"Asahi-san, will you model for me?"

Asahi is about to stutter out another question when he decides to pause and take more careful stock of the guy he's just handed a dangerously hot vanilla latte, who is still pointing at him. He's got a streak of bleached hair in the center of his forehead, a few strands of which aren't styled up like the rest and fall in over his forehead. His shirt proclaims in loud black lettering that "Hell is just a sauna" that looks like it was screenprinted professionally or very close to it, and he has a sketchbook wider than his torso clamped under one arm, which he reaches for with the pointing hand when he finally drops it, thank god.

Art students are not an uncommon occurrence in this particular coffee shop. Coffee addiction is widely regarded as an accepted characteristic of art students, computer scientists, lit studies majors, and college students in general, or at least something they would commonly partake in. The unusual part is this compact, aggressive one who doesn't look at least partially dead, rushing to complete some deadline or another before the end of the term. Statistically speaking, this guy should be less chipper.

"Model?" Asahi repeats dumbly, his response following a significantly awkward delay.

"Yeah," the guy says, though he offers no further elaboration.

"W-Why me?"

"Because you're gorgeous! Duh. Have you looked in a mirror recently?"

Asahi is pretty sure his ears are warmer than the coffee he just handed the guy. Who says that to a stranger? And more importantly, how is he supposed to react?

"I don't mean that in a weird way," the boy—man? He looks young—covers, still grinning. Asahi's not sure if that makes it harder or easier for him to believe what he's saying. "I just mean, like, objectively. I'm Nishinoya, by the way. Noya is fine. Or Yuu, even. That's my first name. Really, anything is good."

"Uhh," Asahi articulates, searching for his coworker slash friend as if Daichi might have a solution to this problem, or might take pity on him and tell him to get back to work, thus ending the encounter before it can get any worse. Despite the fact that the coffee shop is both empty and spotless, and everything is stocked to the point of overflowing. The cups probably shouldn't be stacked that high, in all honesty.

For the first time, the guy's smile drops a little. It's most evident around his eyes, which are big and brown—or maybe they’re more gold. "Don't worry about it, I don't expect some random guy I just met to agree to something like that."

Daichi has disappeared from the face of the earth, and Asahi flounders without an anchor. "No—I—I will! I mean, it's just s-sitting and stuff, right?"

The light returns to Nishinoya's bright face full force. "Of course! It's super easy. Here, let me give you my phone number—" He sets down his coffee, then his sketchbook, nearly upsetting the first with the second, and searches the bar for some method with which to write that doesn't involve tearing out some of his (likely expensive) sketchbook paper. Asahi does the same from his end, though he is more successful since he's been gripping a Sharpie in a vice for the last two minutes anyway, and the napkins are under the register. He pulls out five in an attempt to grab two, and Nishinoya tugs one off the stack to scribble down the relevant digits in barely-legible handwriting. Asahi watches his hands. They look like they're already stained with grey marker in a couple different shades.

Nishinoya folds the napkin with Asahi's phone number unevenly in half and stuffs it in his pocket. He picks up his coffee and his sketchbook and beams again. "Great! I'll text you then! Once I have some hands." He raises the coffee cup by way of saying goodbye and Asahi waves without questioning his actions.

Daichi appears suddenly from the back room and leans on his shoulder. "Look at you, stud."

"Where were you?!" Asahi practically wails, turning to him.

"I ducked out as soon as he started pointing at you. Figured you had to learn how to fend for yourself someday, so why not today? Spent the last five minutes laughing my ass off and live-texting Suga. What are you going to wear on your date? Or is it nude modeling?"

Asahi swallows and looks around helplessly.

"You didn't ask, did you?"

Oh boy.

**XXX**

Nishinoya does the work finding out when their schedules align, which ends up being Thursday afternoon. He suggests his place for ease and lighting, and gives the address, which is accompanied by a bunch of extraneous questions (to Asahi) and answers (about himself). Asahi doesn't mind; in fact he sometimes prefers texting to conversing in person because he can give himself time to think of answers to questions, and he doesn't stutter, and he can use emojis to make himself seem less threatening than his physical form usually appears.

Nishinoya had come into the coffee shop on Monday, and by Thursday, Asahi feels like they could almost be friends already. He knows Noya's going to the local art college, and has been for two years, plays a sport (though he's making Asahi guess which one, and he's only allowed one guess per day, so he hasn't gotten it yet), and has a pet bearded dragon named Hana, whom Asahi is a little anxious to meet, though he hasn't expressed that, choosing instead to hope that no attempts at introductions will be made.

Noya opens the door, and somehow Asahi feels as though he's even shorter when they're not separated by the width of the register and counter. He worries that somehow Nishinoya resents him for being significantly taller than him, or that he'll be offended that he's looking down on him—wait, but isn't that just an expression? But it’s true literally, too—

"The lighting is best over here," Noya says, indicating a chair by the window. There are canvases scattered across the apartment, ranging from blank to half filled with haphazard colors depicting intricate landscapes--the ocean, a flower garden, a dark nursery with light streaming in—to ones splattered with blacks and reds until the image underneath them is almost completely obscured. Asahi wants to look at them, but Nishinoya's already covering up the ones that don't have sheets thrown over them, so he just sits in the chair.

Nishinoya moves to the chair opposite and pauses before sitting down. "Oh, I forgot. You want anything to drink, or eat, or something? I think all the food I have is like...rice crackers. And mayonnaise. I won’t judge if you say yes."

"Maybe just some water?" Asahi tries, figuring he'll at least have that.

"Sure." He heads into the kitchen, and there's the sound cupboards opening and the tap running. He returns a minute later and offers the glass to Asahi, who takes it and sips it gratefully. "You mind if I start?" He picks up his sketchbook and hesitates before sitting down.

"Yeah, of course. It's what we're here for."

Nishinoya opens his sketchbook. "Okay, so just take off all your clothes and then we can go."

Asahi freezes and his eyes go wide. He has a flashback to Monday when he insisted to Daichi that it was _not_ nude modeling, and then had Daichi in turn reassure him that he was probably right. Oh god. Oh no.

"I'm joking," Noya says with a laugh.

Asahi mirrors his laugh nervously. "Uh, what do you want me to, uh?" He feels like he's glancing around too much.

"Just look relaxed and sit still. Maybe lean back in the chair a little." He opens his sketchbook as Asahi tries to straighten his spine and relax it to an appropriate degree. There's the sound of pages flipping, then a couple of scratches of pencil against paper. "Could you lift your head a little bit? There’s a shadow on your nose." Asahi complies, doing his best to maintain the position while looking natural at the same time. It's surprisingly difficult to balance the two. He feels like he's more on the side of rigid and posed than natural and...whatever air he's supposed to give off. "You're thinking too much," Nishinoya says, glancing up briefly before looking back down at his sketchbook.

"A-Ah, sorry, I guess I'm distracted. I'll try to clear my head."

Asahi catches sight of him smiling. "No, I just mean like I can hear the gears turning. Sounds exhausting. You nervous or something?"

Asahi lets out a long breath through his nose. "No."

"Liar."

"Okay...yeah."

"I'm not gonna bite you unless we have sex."

He freezes with his eyes fixed on the wall to the side of Noya's head. He tells himself not to read too much into it, but he can't help but thinking 'Does he know that I find him attractive? How much I liked texting him? How cute I think he looks when he's sitting there drawing with his tongue sticking out?' Asahi has barely realized he's thought these things himself, and isn't ready to have another person realize it just yet. Or ever.

Nishinoya laughs again. "I'm joking, chill out. I only said that because the 'unless you ask' thing is overused and I strive for originality. This is more accurate, anyway. I wouldn't bite some random person just because they asked, probably."

Asahi smiles a nervous smile. "I wouldn't either." Wait, what? What kind of response was that?

Noya is still smiling when he flips the page. Is that what 'resolving sexual tension' entails? Can you have one-sided sexual tension? Or did that just create sexual tension between them? He does a mental check of himself: does he feel more or less tense now? It's hard to say. Probably about the same. Maybe a little less. Or is it more? It's so hard to tell.

Nishinoya seems to be oblivious to Schrodinger's sexual tension. "You figure out what sport I play yet?"

"I already guessed today," Asahi points out, not being one to break the rules.

"Eh, I'll give you one more guess."

"Umm..." Asahi hums in thought. His previous four guesses had been soccer, track, baseball, and basketball. Basketball had been kind of a wild guess, since for some reason he couldn't think of that many other sports besides volleyball, but that would be too much of a coincidence. Then again, maybe he's imagining too much entropy in the universe. "Volleyball?"

Noya grins. "What position?"

Asahi's eyes go wide and he catches himself smiling too. "I got it?"

"Not until you guess the position." Nishinoya points his pencil intensely at him and then flips the page, scribbling furiously. "You can sit like that." He had moved from his previous position, just a slight adjustment of his hand from where it was before, but apparently that was enough to count as a pose change.

"Uhh... L-Libero?"

"Bingo. That's easy, though, cuz I'm short."

Asahi circumvents the subject, assuming it could be touchy, even though he didn’t sound offended. "You know, I also, uh, play volleyball."

"No fucking way! Cool! We should play sometime. What position are you? Probably middle blocker or wing spiker, right? Not setter."

Asahi resists the urge to fidget with his hands. "Wing spiker, yeah."

"Man, I kind of miss high school volleyball. It was so intense. The guys on my team now are great, but they're in it way more casually."

Asahi nods, then freezes, remembering he wasn't supposed to move. Nishinoya either doesn't notice, or doesn't mind, because he just keeps drawing and launches into stories about high school volleyball. There were some interesting people on both of their teams, who they talk about, along with the challenging matches they played, the easy wins, the excruciating losses. They figure they never got to play each other, but find out that they went to the same tournaments a couple of times and never got matched up.

Nishinoya offers him little instructions on how to switch up his pose, and Asahi forgets his usual low-level of anxiety and starts to get more at ease. They stay sitting and drawing and talking for a while—Asahi's not sure how long, but the sunlight seems to be falling a little differently across the room. The topic shifts back from volleyball to other things, like work (the screenprinting is a part time job as well as a hobby for Noya) and school and life. Dating comes up, and they establish that both of them are single, Asahi imagines more sexual tension, and then the topic is changed again.

"Where is, um, Hana was her name?" he asks after a beat of silence, glancing around as best as he can without moving his head. He can see a tank from where he sits, and it has a little shelter in it, but other than that, it looks empty.

"Huh?" Nishinoya looks up, brows furrowed. He tips the back end of his pencil towards his shoulder. "She's right—huh?" Looking at it, he finds that the lizard is not there. "Weird, I didn't feel her move. Did you see her on me when I let you in?"

"I don't think so, but I don't really remember. Should we look for her?" Asahi is slightly nervous about a rogue lizard running around the apartment unsupervised, but more than that he realizes that Noya would be upset if his pet got lost or hurt, and he's more concerned about that.

Noya slowly folds his sketchbook and stands up, setting it on the chair. "You don't have to, I can probably find her."

Asahi stands up, careful that nothing alive is under his feet. "No, I want to help." 'Want' might not be the most accurate word, but on some level it's true. He starts by looking behind the chair while Nishinoya checks the tank in the corner of the room to make sure she was out in the first place.

They search for Hana for about ten minutes without success, carefully moving aside furniture and couch cushions, peeling the sheets off the paintings to see if she's clinging to the undersides of them. The little reptile doesn't seem to be anywhere in the small apartment, and both of them are starting to feel panicked.

Asahi moves back around one of the easels propped up again, checking the lizard-colored stand for something lizard-shaped, and finding none, turns around. "I don't see her," he says, wincing at how hopeless he sounds. That can't be encouraging to Noya.

"She's done this before and she usually turns up. I think it'll be—hey."

"Hm?"

Noya grins. "What's that on your leg?"

Asahi looks down at his pants. They're jeans, and they're clean of food, pen markings, and holes. He's not sure what Noya's talking about.

But then he feels the fabric around the back of his thigh shifting.

"Oh my god. I-Is she—?"

Nishinoya puts his hands on his hips and Asahi regrets not telling him he has a sort-of fear of reptiles and other crawly things, because he doesn't look like he intends to move Hana off of him. "That's cute, she likes you. You're more fun to climb than me because there's more of you."

Asahi is standing very still. "C-Could you, m-maybe, uh—" He points to his thigh with a shaking hand.

"Oh!" Noya jumps forward. "Yeah, sorry." He gently disentangles her small claws from Asahi's jeans, and he shivers when he feels tiny pinpricks against his skin, but soon Noya has collected his lizard and is depositing her back in her tank. "Why didn't you say you were scared of them? I wouldn't have had her out at all."

"Sorry," Asahi says.

"Why are you apologizing now?" Nishinoya clucks his tongue. “If anyone’s gonna apologize, it should be me for unleashing a rabid, fire-breathing dragon on you.”

“It’s no problem, really.” Asahi rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and eyes the tank. The latch on it made a satisfying click when Noya closed it, so his pants are probably safe from further encounters with tiny lizard claws. “I’m glad we found her.”

Nishinoya beams. “Yeah! Thanks for helping me look.” He pauses, and Asahi is surprised to find that he looks just the slightest bit…unsettled. The nuances in his expression are very subtle and oddly unfamiliar, and Asahi begins to worry that he’s done something wrong until Nishinoya speaks again. “To pay you back, I’ll take you out on the best date of your life.” He gives a thumbs up with an unusually serious expression on his face, but Asahi supposes that’s meant to convey that he’s…serious about it.

Asahi’s eyes are frozen open. “Sure,” he croaks out before his brain has a chance to catch up and dissuade him.

“Seriously?! Oh man, I thought— I don’t know, you were acting all put off by me blatantly flirting with you, so I thought maybe you were straight or not into short guys or something, but this is awesome!”

Asahi is blushing, but the nervous reaction causes him to smile. “W-Well you kept covering it up so I— That’s just the way I am, honestly.” He bites back the urge to ask Nishinoya if _he’s_ serious, mostly because he gets the feeling he doesn’t usually do anything he’s not serious about.

Nishinoya socks him on the arm. “Don’t be, you’re totally awesome and I’ll make you know it. But anyway, I have to plan, so you should leave. How’s Saturday? At noon?”

“O-Oh, sure.” He kind of wants to ask to see Noya’s drawings of him, but he figures he’ll have more opportunities, and Noya’s already shooing him towards the door.

“Great! See you then.” They wave to each other and then the door closes, and Asahi hears a muffled (but not very) ‘HELL YEAH!’

**XXX**

Nishinoya is very obtuse about what their date is going to entail, and his instructions to wear comfortable clothes and shoes throw off Asahi’s plans to dress nicely. The four hours on Saturday before they arrange to meet pass quickly, after a torturously slow Friday, and at three past noon, Asahi finds himself chest-to-face with a very excited-looking Noya wearing an enormous backpack.

Nishinoya greets him and almost immediately takes off right past him, and Asahi, despite having considerably longer legs, must run to catch up. He offers to carry the backpack, but Nishinoya rejects his proposition and begins to hike up through an area of the park that doesn’t look like it has an actual path. Asahi timidly follows him, expressing concern that he doesn’t think they’re meant to be over here, but Noya assures him it’s fine, and that he knows the area. They continue trudging through the brambles and plants, and gradually their way turns into a bit of an uphill climb. Asahi finds himself sweating slightly and is thankful for his decision to wear shorts and his old, well-worn volleyball shoes.

They hike for a good half an hour, gradually making their way to shade as the trees grow thicker. Though there definitely wasn’t before, the area they’re walking through begins to look like it could be a path. When they find a portion of makeshift slabs of wood stuck into the earth as steps, Nishinoya informs him that they’re almost there, and soon the trees give way to a clearing, in the middle of which are a pond well-populated with ducks and other birds Asahi can’t name of the top of his head, and a slightly decrepit but beautiful shrine.

“Tada!” Nishinoya exclaims, framing the scene with his arms and panting slightly. “I found this a few years ago. I don’t think anyone comes here anymore, but it’s a nice place. Great for picnics. Also a good workout to get here. Come on.” He grabs Asahi’s hand and tugs him in the direction of the shrine. They slip off their sweat-soaked shoes and tread carefully across the floorboards, which are rotting to various degrees, but Nishinoya is able to point out the less structurally sound ones so they can make a safe path through. He also points to a spot where he broke through the floor once and shows Asahi the scar on his shin. They sit and pay their respects, and it’s about the longest period of time Asahi has ever seen Nishinoya be quiet, but he’s struck by the serenity on his face when he prays. Noya digs into a pocket of his backpack and drops a few coins in, and Asahi digs some change out of his pocket as well.

They set up for the picnic near the pond, but away from the ducks, whom Nishinoya has befriended with past offerings of protein bars and the occasional husk of melon bread. They wander near with interest, but seem wary of Asahi’s unfamiliar and imposing figure. Noya came prepared with some treats for them that he keeps hidden at the bottom of the backpack so they can eat his convenience store-bought bentos in peace. Asahi’s not sure he could have  been more surprised if Noya had prepared them, although Noya assures him that that wouldn’t be in their best interests if they didn’t want to spend the rest of their date evacuating themselves in the woods. Those were not his exact words.

The food is still good, not that Asahi’s picky, and the company is even more enjoyable. To Asahi’s added surprise and pleasure, Nishinoya brought his sketchbook with him. He’s secretive at first about the drawings he did on Thursday, but he lets Asahi watch him whip out fast but beautiful sketches of the pond and the ducks and the shrine as they talk. Eventually Noya flips through to a new page and has Asahi pose for him again. When he’s done, Asahi asks to see them again and Noya relents, not acting embarrassed at all, but rather giving off the impression that he just wanted to have more content to show him.

“I was trying to get your eyes right. I don’t think these ones are as good, but I think they’re better in today’s.” He points first to the ones he did in his apartment, and then to the ones he’s just done. Asahi is impressed either way. He thinks he looks more handsome rendered in pencil and now charcoal than he does in real life. Noya even shows him a caricature he did without a reference, with big, sad eyes and a contradictory dopey grin, but excellent cheekbones, a square jaw, and a strong nose. He tears that one out and gives it to Asahi, explaining that he has to keep the others to turn in. Asahi holds the sturdy piece of paper in his hand as if it were terribly delicate, and falters when he realizes he has nowhere to put it, so Noya tucks it back in to the sketchbook and they make a promise to try to remind him to take it back.

The ducks overcome their fear of Asahi when he tears off small chunks of bread for them, quacking happily and flicking water from the pond off their feathers and onto his feet. There is almost an incident when one of them flies vertically up in the air to nip a piece out of his hand when he’s distracted looking at Noya, and he nearly loses his balance.

They hike back down after a few long hours, with Asahi managing to secure the backpack for the trip down after some insistence, which Noya only agrees to because it’s lighter without all the food in it. Once they reach the oden stand they’d met in front of, they part ways when Asahi waffles too long about whether or not to kiss him. The idea of doing it in public weighs too strongly on his nerves, but he will have another chance since they agree to go on another date on Tuesday.

This time Asahi actually knows what they’ll be doing—playing volleyball with Noya’s group. He’s a little bit out of practice since he’s only played a handful of times with alums from his high school in the last two years, but he does get a good workout, being inspired by Noya giving his all. He hadn’t mentioned before that he’s an insanely good libero, and no offense to Matsuda on the other team, but he puts him to shame.

The whole group is fun to get along with, and they’re very forgiving of Asahi’s mistakes, but to his credit, he does make relatively few of them. He was never half-bad of a player himself, and he scores a few service aces along with some fantastic spikes. Noya mentions that he would have been excited if his friend—whom he refers to simply as ‘Ryuu’—was there, because he thinks they would get along, and the sentiment seems to be shared among the whole group. Apparently, Ryuu (whose surname is Tanaka, Asahi finds later), is practicing with his band today. But Noya promises they’ll meet up sometime.

They all go out for dinner later and everyone compliments him and congratulates Noya on landing such a great boyfriend. Asahi feels a little put on the spot, but not in a bad way. He didn’t realize Noya had told them all, or that they were even at boyfriend status, but he’s not opposed to either.

He ends up walking Noya home and there’s a perfect opportunity for a kiss when they’re lingering in front of Noya’s door—that he grandly misses. He seems preoccupied with his keys while Asahi debates the logistics of getting his attention, but there’s a moment when he looks up, and Asahi finds the differences in their height aren’t so big that he couldn’t just lean down— But the word ‘Goodnight’ is out before he can stop it, and Noya smiles brightly at him and returns the sentiment before going inside.

Date number three settles to something more average—a movie. It’s not a new movie, but rather one a favorite samurai flick of Noya’s from the 90s that’s being played at a small revival theater. The gore is cheesy enough that it doesn't (severely) bother Asahi. The guys' heads fly straight off and they don't even bother with blood. He's not sure how accurate that is, but it's all for the better. Almost immediately, Noya grabs his hand where it lies innocently on the armrest between them. Asahi’s hand instantly begins to sweat, and Noya seems blissfully ignorant, commenting on the 'best parts' of the movie so much that Asahi nearly misses them. But he's grateful for the interaction anyway.

He fidgets again over the Kissing Predicament. It's dark in the theater, and there aren't many people in it anyway, but he's not sure if it would be a good idea to distract Nishinoya from the movie, so he keeps postponing it (yes, surely that is the only reason).

There's a rather touching romance between the main character and his rival samurai's daughter, and this is how the issue is decided for him, but not by him. He looks away from the scene when the rival—who has become something of an ally in the war—is dying a slow and painful death, and is begging the main character to kill him. He looks at Noya for lack of anything more interesting and less painful to set his eyes on, and finds Noya looking at him. Quickly, Noya drops his hand and brings it up to his face, pulling him down quickly, before he can react or back out for some asinine reason, and they're kissing.

Surprisingly, he's a gentle kisser. At least, that's the way it is at first. Asahi's dim awareness of what's happening in the movie fades as he sinks into Noya's smooth, dry lips. His tongue peeks between them and wets them, and it aids in softening the gentle way they press together. Asahi's hand tentatively goes to his jaw, rubbing his thumb across the corner below his ear as he moves his mouth tenderly against Noya's. His heart is pounding, but he's not anxious at all. He forgets the movie until Nishinoya suddenly breaks away, looking at the screen with an expression close to terror. "Oh, shit. We missed their big kiss," he whispers.

"That's okay," Asahi says, privately thinking theirs was probably better.

Asahi begins to find himself a little incorrigible when the movie ends and Nishinoya is now walking him back to his apartment, which is relatively close. But he's emboldened by their first real contact, and he feels like it shouldn't have taken this long to get this far. Clearly, Noya thought that too, which was why he took the initiative. It's only fair that Asahi takes his turn being brave.

"Do you, uh, want to come in f-for...a bit?" Nice save. Could have gone with 'a drink' rather than just 'sex,' but the meaning could still be there anyway.

Noya nods and punches him in the arm. "Sure thing."

So they go in. And they sit. And then Asahi stands to get Nishinoya some water. And Nishinoya drinks half the glass in two gulps, and then he pushes Asahi down on the couch and aggressively kisses him.

This time there's tongue involved—a lot—not unskillfully used, either. It's fast and hard and Asahi feels like he can barely keep up, but by simple necessity, he does, holding Nishinoya firm to his chest and matching the strokes of his tongue, daring to bite at his lips, though not too hard. This lasts several long minutes, and when Asahi is about to point out that he can no longer pretend he's not hard, maybe they should stop, Noya rolls off of him, and onto the floor. He quickly leaps up and grabs Asahi's hand for the third time, pulling him up with him. "Come on," he says.

Noya drags him towards the most visible door. "Uh, that's the closet—" Asahi points out just as he's closing the door again.

"You lead the way then." He rearranges their fingers so they're laced together, and Asahi swallows and pulls him gently in the other direction. His bed is unmade, unfortunately, but doesn't seem to care. He squeezes Asahi's hand and looks up at him. "Do you have lube?"

"Yes," Asahi wheezes, still out of breath from their kissing, and also because Noya asked him that.

"And condoms?"

"Yes."

"Can I fuck you?"

He nods. Maybe a little too enthusiastically.

"Find those things, then," Noya says, tugging his shirt over his head. Asahi trips over his bedding, which have spilled onto the floor a little, and manages to get to the nightstand and dig out supplies. He sets them on top of the nightstand and strips off his shirt as well. Noya’s naked, kneeling on his bed, baring himself proudly, or at least without shame. Asahi does his best to mirror that when he strips off his pants. Noya somehow manages to smile while whistling, or at least he’s still got the dimples. “Next time, we switch.”

“Sure,” Asahi says with a small laugh, climbing onto the bed, glad he’s not daunted into flat-out refusal. It’s happened before. “How do you, uh?”

“Lie down,” Noya instructs. He opts for on his back, and lets Nishinoya climb between his legs after grabbing the lube. He’s quick to pour a generous amount on his fingers and without too much pretense, he’s sliding one in to Asahi. “Okay?” he asks, keeping his hand still.

“Yeah. Haven’t done this in a while, but it’s fine,” Asahi says. He glances at Noya’s other hand, and Noya immediately picks up on what he’s thinking and shuffles one leg over Asahi’s thigh so he can be closer to his body, more to the side of him. He starts moving his finger and trails his clean hand over Asahi’s chest, tickling the sparse hair over his pectorals with his nails. He moves his hand to the side and tweaks Asahi’s nipple gently. All of his movements are surprisingly careful and attentive. Maybe Asahi should have picked up on this trait of his earlier. As a libero, he has to be aware of everything that’s happening on the court at all times. As an artist, he has to pick out details of his surroundings and piece them together in a way that makes sense. He’s perceptive, in every way. “You’re so beautiful, Asahi,” he murmurs.

‘Beautiful.’ Not ‘hot’ or ‘sexy.’ It’s more flattering than that. Even when he thinks back to their first encounter, Nishinoya had called him ‘gorgeous,’ which has a similar connotation attached to it. He doesn’t feel even remotely objectified, not that he often does, but he knows he’s more than just a piece of meat to Noya. While that’s probably not quite what the last person he slept with thought either, it’s definitely significant enough of a step in a different direction that Asahi’s heart jumps again. “Kiss me,” he suggests.

Noya smiles. “I don’t think my arms are long enough, but I’ll do my best,” he says, lowering his head down to Asahi’s ribs as he pushes in another finger and preps him more thoroughly. He skates his teeth across each subtle change in muscle, choosing to suck a mark into his skin here or there. Asahi puts his own hand across his shoulders, marveling at how much of his body he can cover, his own tan skin contrasting with Nishinoya’s paler tones. He trails his nails over Noya’s back, noting the location of each mole and bone on his canvas, and arcs up into Noya’s mouth.

Soon, a third finger joins the other two, and Asahi is feeling pleasantly full and nearly ready. Noya has moved down to his abdomen, sucking and kissing the sensitive skin there, though avoiding his cock. Asahi aches, but is willing to be patient. His patience is about to pay off after a couple more minutes of attention when Noya pulls his fingers back and wipes them on his own leg so he can more easily apply the condom, then gets it all sticky again to slick up his dick. “I’m really glad we’re doing this,” he says.

“Me too,” Asahi agrees, watching with anticipation as Noya climbs between his legs and hooks his arms under them to pull him up to a better angle. Asahi shifts to accommodate for his part and lets out the breath he was holding as Nishinoya pushes into him slowly.

“Ohhh…you feel so nice.”

Asahi smiles, sharing the sentiment from his perspective. “Yeah, like I said, haven’t done this in a while.”

“I bet you’d feel nice anyway,” Noya insists. “Can I go?”

“Yes,” he breathes, closing his eyes briefly.

Noya lets go of one of Asahi’s legs in favor of gripping his cock. His hand looks small, but he works it well as he begins to thrust steadily into him, and Asahi is quick to moan out reassurance. Noya hums a little, and at first, Asahi thinks it’s an ambiguous noise of pleasure, but it seems like it’s a song, and he laughs. “Do I know that song?” he asks, gasping suddenly when Noya thrusts in particularly deep at a good angle.

“Ahh… Probably not. My friend wrote it for his band. I mentioned him—Ryuu.”

“It sounds good,” Asahi says, laughing again, then moaning again.

“I’ll introduce you to him sometime. He’s my best friend. He says he wants to meet you. Oh, jeez. This is really good.” He continues humming for a bit only to let out an open-mouthed groan which ends in him biting his lip and squeezing Asahi’s prick with just the right amount of pressure. He seizes up in pleasure and fists his hands into the sheets.

Asahi forgets to respond because he’s getting distracted by how good this feels. There’s that whole saying about how it’s not what you have, but how you use it, and Noya is living proof of that, because he’s agreeing with every remark he’s said about how good this is. But he hasn’t actually said it out loud, or at least, not enough. “Fuck…you’re good at this.”

Now Noya laughs. “Ah, thank you. I try to get good marks in this subject.” He picks up his pace a little, and Asahi suspects he could be feeling the same amount of pressure in his belly as he is. His hand keeps working well even under the circumstances of impending orgasm, twisting over Asahi’s substantial cock, swiping over his head to ease the pumping with his natural lubricant.

“Want me to take over?” Asahi asks, feeling like he’s being a bit of a pillow queen.

“Sure, just for a bit,” Noya grunts, unfurling his hand. Asahi takes hold of himself and moves his hand slowly, wanting to draw out his pleasure for as long as possible. Noya is going hard into him, angling right on his most sensitive spot and making him let out unrestrained noises of pleasure. “Asahi, I’m gonna— _Ahh_ —Fuck—” His hips stutter and jerk, and he thrusts hard and heavy into Asahi, who gasps and can’t help jerking himself faster.

Noya’s grip on his thigh loosens and he lets it go as he pulls out. Asahi sinks his hind section down onto the bed, feeling a little raw, but not unpleasantly so.

“Just a sec,” Nishinoya says, carefully removing the condom and knotting it.

“Take your time,” Asahi grunts out. He wouldn’t mind finishing himself, but he feels like Noya might not let him, so he goes slowly as he gets off the bed and hunts for the trash. “Behind the door,” he supplies helpfully.

Completely naked once more, Noya climbs back onto the bed and bats Asahi’s hand away.

“Are you sure you don’t want to— _ooh_.” Asahi interrupts his own query when Noya licks a long, wet stripe up his cock, shivering at the intense look in his eyes, trained straight on Asahi’s face. “You really don’t have t-to—”

“Shh,” Noya shushes him, face half obscured by his cock. He trails his mouth up along another vein in Asahi’s long-suffering dick, from base to tip, and wraps his lips around the head, working his tongue into the foreskin and rolling it back. Asahi shivers again, thinking he’s probably in for a pretty intense ride.

He turns out to be right. Noya is able to turn the tables on his earlier thoughts of what you have vs how you use it, thinking he might have even more than he let on when he sinks slowly down over nearly every centimeter of Asahi’s cock. Or maybe it would be having _less_ , in terms of gag reflexes. Asahi’s so awed he almost forgets he’s about to come.

Noya gets into a sturdy rhythm of sucking and bobbing, and Asahi dares not move his hips lest he upset what he imagines (though he may be only imagining it) a fragile balance. He’ll have to ask later, but right now he’s only in wonderment about how he can be this hard, this aroused, and still not come. But that wonderment only lasts a few more moments before he’s stuttering out, between heavy groaning and panting, that he’s going to come.

Nishinoya pulls off and has his hand ready to give hard, twisting strokes that bring Asahi to a forceful, vision-spotting orgasm. He’s thrusting against Noya’s hand as his cum spurts across his stomach for a solid few seconds, and then he collapses, spent and boneless and wheezing.

His boyfriend grins triumphantly. “I’m gonna go wash my hands,” he says. “Maybe my whole arms. I think there’s only one door I haven’t tried for the bathroom.”

Asahi nods weakly, unable to do much of anything else, and closes his eyes briefly. When Noya comes back, he realizes he was on the verge of unconsciousness, but the shaking of the bed as he flops onto it rouses him.

“You know, I have almost no refractory period. If that’s a noteworthy thing.” This rouses Asahi to different levels.

**XXX**

For their fourth date, Asahi and Nishinoya go to a small gig Noya’s friend Tanaka is playing with his band. After the show, which is great (they play the song), Noya mentions to Tanaka that he hummed the song while fucking Asahi (Asahi’s complexion could rival a lobster’s). Thankfully, Tanaka laughs loudly and does not pass that detail on to the rest of the band, or any patrons of the bar they played at, and Noya assures him that it was necessary to stroke his friend’s ego, and not meant to be at Asahi’s expense.

Asahi really likes Tanaka, and seeing him and Nishinoya interact with each other, he can see why they’re such good friends, and he’s somehow thankful for Tanaka being in both his and Noya’s lives. He seems to really like Asahi, as evidenced by how he shares stories of stupid shit they’ve done together, like accidentally breaking his sister’s Wadaiko drum, and how they ran a kilometer from her until she chased them down in her van. And also the time they snuck into their old high school to pee off the roof—a story which Nishinoya punctuates with ‘Come on, who hasn’t done that?’ Or the time that they got in a fight over which of them a girl liked more, which ended in wrestling, which ended in kissing, which led to a relationship—which ended. They had decided they were better as friends, and Asahi can’t say he regrets the outcome. Overall, it’s a good time, and Asahi has a little too much beer, and by the time it has well worn off, he’s recovering from another long, naked tussle of his own with Nishinoya.

By their fifth date, Noya insists that they’ve graduated to nude figure drawing, and Asahi can’t well deny that. He doesn't.


End file.
